Painting Viktor
by ANTIDISESTABLISHMENTARIANISM3
Summary: Shy, studious Lacey Caldwell has been called the next great magical painter of her time. With the arrival of the Triwizard Tournament and many new students, she can't help but to paint all the new experiences and people. One person in particular has her thoughts consumed, and he finds himself drawn toward the small girl with the paint smudged cheeks.
1. Chapter 1

**I actually have other things I'm working on, fanfiction as well as personal works for future publication, but this, has been on my mind for a while and I had to give it a go. **

Lacey Caldwell was known as the next great magical painter of her time; she was 16, and a sixth year Ravenclaw at Hogwarts. She was studious and quiet, having grown up labeled as a freak in a muggle orphanages, she was shy and didn't quite understand how to make friends.

The only people she ever really spoke to were some of her housemates- Luna being one of her favorite people to talk to and Hermione Granger- another student that was very study oriented. Lucy was quiet, but very intelligent she took notes dutifully and studied near constantly, when she wasn't occupied with her studies she was painting. Orginaally a muggle painter, Dumbledore had taken a special interest in her gift in the arts- private lessons began and she soon mastered the charms required for the canvas to withstand moving paintings, and extracting memories of the subject to allow them to move. Her hard work gained her some investors, and many of the paintings around Hogwarts were some of her very own works.

Lacey was often seen with her white blond hair ascew, or held up with paintbrushes. Her focus on her studies and painting often overruled her personal appearance. In fact, she was see most often with streaks of paint on her face and clothing, and even her hair had been turned from its usual near white, to various shades of color depending on the painting that day.

Students had long ago stopped laughing or trying to point it out as she'd often look up with an unfathomable expression and ghostly violet eyes. She'd blink at them emptily and return to her work.

Lacey worked constantly, only stopping to eat, sleep, and perform basic bodily functions. This was how she was, her mind adrift or fixated because there was a part of her, a small part of her delicate heart tucked away, that believed if she allowed herself to relax and think, really think, she'd upset herself.

When she was younger she used to worry and wonder why she was so much different from all the other children. She'd cry mournfully at the thought that maybe it was her abnormality that lead to her being given up in the first place.

As a child, Lacey was groomed to hope for a better life- for loving parents- for comfort, after years of rejection and painful personal convictions about her abnormailities, she stopped hoping. She stopped asking herself those painful questions, and she existed dutifully. Achieving in muggle studies, and when Proffessor Dumbledore came to her explaining what she was and what Hogwarts was, she allowed herself the tiniest bit of comfort, and allowed her heart to heal, before launching herself into her work.

This year was going to be different at Hogwarts, as the Triwizard Tournament was going to be held at the school. Lacey watched with curiosity as the girls from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic danced and sighed dreamily across the the hall, much to the pleasure of the young men. With a small smile, Lacey wondered if that was how French girls fought their enemy- distract them with paper birds and dreamy sighs, before flitting away.

Next, came the Durmstrang Institute young men, they were brawny, brutish, and possessed a very powerful ability to control the atmosphere of the crowd as they stomped, and sparked their staffs on the cobblestone floor. Lacey contemplated painting the new arrivals breifly before she began to eat.

"I always liked new students," Luna said breathily, a pleasant smile on her face.

"So nice," she added as an afterthought, Lacey gave as small smile for her sake- some of the students at Hogwarts could be rather ruthless.

Having eaten her fill Lacey joined some of the students in their pursuit of their individual common rooms. She'd just turned a corner on her way out when she bumped into a very large Durmstrang student. Lacey was very short and petite, standing at only 5'2", the impact had Lacey toppling back onto the stone floor.

"I apologize, are you alright," the voice was masculine, deep, and had a heavy Bulgarian accent.

"It's not a problem, I'm sorry, I was the one that ran into you," she said taking his large outstretched hand and standing up. Lacey took a moment to aboserve him, he was tall, most likely a foot taller than she was, he was built, and had striking features. A structured jaw and nose, deep brooding eyes, and dark hair. All in all, Lacey found him... attractive.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she told him, and with a small friendly wave and smile, and very pink cheeks, she ran quickly down the hall for her common room.

Viktor was thrown off by the encounter offhandedly he a nearby Hogwarts student if he knew who she was.

"I-I," the redheaded Gryfffindor was struck by his idol's acknowledgment of his existence.

"Her name is Lacey Caldwell," Hermione supplied, Vikto nodded and gave her a thankful look before making his way back to the Durmstrang ship that housed them. His thoughts were on the tournament, and the small blond he'd just run into.

**First Chapter! I'll hopefully be updating AT LEAST once every 1 or 2 weeks depending on my schedule. We'll see. **


	2. Chapter 2

Viktor couldn't find the small blond anywhere, he'd looked high and low during great feasts, but the crowded tables of Hogwarts did not reveal the tiny girl. Still he tried to focus on the task at hand, under the urgings of his peers and Headmaster, and of course his own personal desires, he'd entered the Triwizard Tournament.

Lacey was painting, her assigned meter long Potion essay completed, she found herself creating the bold image of the Durmstrange students as they slammed their staffs down onto the cobblestone floor. She kept the background muted and duller to emphasize the red sparks of their staffs, deep uniform colors. She unknowling found a lot of her emphasis on the stern determined look of one boy in particular, the one she'd met only briefly.

She finished the painting with one last adjustment to the dark eyes of the built Durmstrang boy, with a swipe at her brown she smiled at the finished product. The charmed canvas and use of her memories created a moving image of young men throwing their large fur robes and throwing staffs boldly. When it came to painting, it was extremely difficult to create a moving image on your own and most painters would transfer their memories onto the charmed canvas in order to capture that movement.

She smiled faintly and threw her bag over her shoulder, then she gathered her paintbrushes and tucked the painting under her arm. She scurried off for Dumbledore's office, he was always interested in her work, and most of the time took her paintings off her hands. She rounded a corner swiftly and met a large Durmstrang student, again. Her paintbrushed clattered to the stone floor and rolled away, and the painting was sent skittering across the floor. It was the boy again, the one she'd met earlier under the very same circumstances, he and a group of firnds wer talking animatedly in what she thought to be Bulgarian.

He stared down at her as her face grew pink and hot.

"We need to stop meeting like this," he chuckled and pulled her up.

"I'm sorry again," she immediately began collecting her fallen brushes.

"Here you've dropped-" Viktor lifted the fallen painting and stared in surprise. It was his school, it was him.

"What is it Vikta?" His friend Hugo asked, and all of them gathered over his shoulder to look at the painting.

"How much do you want for this?" Viktor asked. Lacey had finished gathering her brushes and now stood very pink as the objects of her painting stared at themselves.

"I-I don't want any money, if you really like it, um, go ahead and have it." she bit her lip and Viktor noted amusedly that her forhead and left cheek had a smears of paint that matched the color of his uniform.

"You have paint here," his thumb skimmed her cheek, "and here," he poked her forward lightly. Lacey's cheeks and ears burned red.

"This is wonderful, you must tell me if you make another yes?" she was struck as his large, warm hand found her cheek, his eyes twinkled.

Uh... and who are you? I mean if I need to find you who do I ask for?" Viktor's friends scoffed.

"You don't follow Quidditch do you?" he asked bemusedly, she shook her head and looked down.

"Viktor Krum," vaguely she recalled the name being mentioned amongst the students excitedly, in fact Ron kept going on about him when she was studying with Hermione yesterday.

"Okay," she gave as shy smile.

"Vikta, we've got to get back, Karkaroff's curfew." Hugo urged.

"I must go, thank you again, until next time lovely," Viktor took her small hand and delicately placed a cheek warming kiss on her knuckles.

"Bye Viktor," she bid.

"Bye lovely," he called and he and his mates made their way back to the Durmstrang ship.

Lacey was confused about the whole exchange and the feelings that came with its memory. Despite her usual devotion to her studies she found her thoughts being lost to Viktor, and her parchment dedicated to notes, held his dark stare.

After her spacey lesson in Transfiguration, she joined the students who waited excitedly for the announcement of the Twiwizard Tournament champions. Lacey picked awkwardly at her nails, noting the spots of paint that always seemed to be present, her thoughts were so lost suddenly in her appearance that she didn't even realize Dumbledore had been speaking.

"The Durmstrang champion," Dumbledore announced, the students fell quiet and the Goblet emit sputtering flames before a lightly burned paper wafted out and into Dumbledore's hand.

"Viktor Krum," Lacey bit her lip as worry filled her heart, these things were dangerous, no doubt Viktor was an amazing wizard, but Lacey couldn't stop the errant emotions that filled her. Without a thought to the rest of the competitors she fled the hall. She spent the next few hours in the library working with her mind spinning. It wasn't until she'd finished painting that she even realized what she'd painted in the first place.

Viktor, tall and proud being announced as his school's champion.

She gathered her paintbrushes and bag and headed uncertainly for the Durmstrang ship, shivering as she went. The weather was beggining to get colder and Lacey hadn't thought to grab a sweater, as she approached the opening of the ghostly ship the tall intimidating Durmstrange Headmaster met her.

"Yes?" his asked with annoyance.

"Is Viktor Krum here?" she asked timidly, she bit her lip and clutched the painting tightly.

"I, and Dumbledore made it perfectly clear that this ship is private and free from fans," Lackey kicked the ground awkwardly.

"He told me, if I have another painting, to bring it to him," she mumbled embarrassed, Karkaroff's eyes fell to the canvas.

"The little painter," he mused gruffly, and he turned suddenly entering the ship. Vikto came a few moments later buckily clad in his furs.

"Ah, already you've made another," with as shy smile she held it out to him, he grasped it carefully and appraised it. His eyes softened and he looked down at her.

"It is lovely," she flushed.

"Well uh... good luck Viktor I'm sure the other 2 don't stand a chance," Viktor frowned.

"You haven't heard?" at her puzzled expression he sighed. "Harry Potter is also the Hogwarts competitor," Lacey's eyes widened.

"But he's underaged!" she exclaimed, Viktor nodded.

"His name came from the goblet, he must compete. Were you not at the announcement," Lacey shrugged.

"I was but I uh- left after you were called. I got... worried," Viktor took her cold hands in his comfortingly.

"Lacey I assure you, I have been training and preparing for this for a long time, I will be ok," she nodded and smiled a tiny bit. She shivered again, and Viktor pulled his robes from his shoulders and settled them on hers. They weighed heavily on her small frame.

"Thak you," she mumbled, he chuckled.

"You are so tiny," he stated amused, "here, let me escort you back," she took his outstretched hand and walked back happily.


End file.
